The Road Trip
by SnowieNumberFour
Summary: Sam leaves Pete at the altar. Guess who's there for her? Lots of S/J because I can't not. Also, I will report all and any mean comments to Santa. I will probably tamper a little with the canon timeline, if that makes you nervous, keep a paper bag near by.
1. Desertion

It took him a while to find her in the dingy light of his dark closet. He pushed coats and jackets away, orienting himself by the sounds of her ill concealed retching. He finally found her in her white dress, hugging her own knees, and weeping like a child. He sat down opposite to her, his knees cracking and protesting.

"Carter?"

She looked up at him, eyes full of tears, and in the isolation of the dark closet and the weight of the moment, what was left of old protocol and formality briefly melted away, just long enough for his hand to grace her tear soaked cheek.

"Sir, I don't know what to do."

Her words hung in the silence. Jack shifted.

"You don't marry some schmuck you don't want to marry." He said abruptly, not meaning to be quite so succinct. Sam's wet eyes opened wide.

"At least, that's what…people… say…" Jack faltered.

Sam giggled.

"That's great advice, sir, thanks." She managed about half of a smile, and a little twinkle was back in her eyes.

"You, colonel Carter, are a filthy liar."

Jack's mock sternness had no effect, not that he thought it would. Sam suddenly tensed up.

"Where is he?" She asked, and Jack knew who she meant.

"Pete?" He asked rhetorically, " he left, and I ordered the rest of them to go away too."

Sam shook her head as she smiled vaguely.

"They're not in your chain of command," she reminded him gently.

"Carter, no one is, I'm retired. But this is my property, so I still have power here."

Silence fell. Jack felt Sam's nervousness but had no idea how to help her. He'd never sat in his own closet before, comforting the would-have-been wife of another man.

"Can I stay here?" Her question punctured the still air.

"Of course."

His answer came naturally and immediately, as did Sam's peck on his cheek. They might still stick to old nicknames and titles, but their friendship had evolved after Jack retired and moved back to Minnesota from Washington DC. She'd occasionally peck him on the cheek now, they hugged as a greeting, and their banter was more relaxed.

"Help an old man to his feet, Carter, my knees are disintegrating as we speak."

Sam huffed slightly as she got up and offered Jack a hand. As her dress billowed out to the floor in all its white tulle grandness, she angrily bit back tears at the reminder of what didn't come to pass. Jack saw her eyes well up, and held her hand steadily.

"Hey," he said softly, "soldiers don't cry."

Sam chortled.

"Soldiers are full of shit, sir," she responded, "probably because they never cry it out."

Jack nodded slowly, not knowing what to respond to such an eloquent summary of their professional hazard number one: Bottling it all up.

"I'll fix up the guestroom," he said, rather proud of his fairly natural sounding segue, "and if you need anything…"

He didn't get to finish his sentence.

"I know," she said, the words carrying a million unspoken ones, "I know."

Jack sighed at the despondent look on Sam's face, wanting to magically wipe it away in exchange for the regular, perky, and smiley Carter that he knew.

"Thanks Jack." She said quietly, as she squeezed his hand slightly.

Jack smiled at her.

"Always." He responded.

And he meant it.


	2. Perturbation

**_What's up my fellow SG1 nerds! My life is pretty much emotional turmoil at the moment, so this isn't gonna be one of those "I'll update every week/two weeks/month/whatever, because I honestly can't make promises. This is a "I'll update when possible" kind of thing. With that said, subscription is free, so rejoice! :D  
-_this has been edited because the month didn't make sense in relation to the weather and wedding arrangements _-_**

The next morning as Jack was making breakfast, a disheveled Sam Carter entered the kitchen wearing a short floral printed dress. She looked tired.

"So, French toast?" He asked, even though he had already put the toast in the pan.

"Yes sir," Sam yawned.

Jack turned one of the pieces of toast and sighed.

"Carter, I swear, you either stop calling me "sir" or I'll give you a reason to call me "sir."

Sam cocked an eyebrow, imitating Teal'c perfectly. It was a question and a challenge.

"I'll go back," Jack responded to the silent question, "out of retirement."

Sam reached for his fridge, pulled out a Diet Pepsi and eyed him skeptically.

"No you won't." She said with certainty and she and her soda took their place at the kitchen table. She had studiously ignored all the wedding food that had been stored in Jack's fridge as she got out her drink but her stomach still churned at the sight.

Jack set the table with toast, coffee, syrup, and a bowl of sugar. As Sam dug in she made an approving noise.

"How come you held out on us?" Sam inquired. "You're a good cook, sir."

Jack grinned.

"Ah!" He wagged a finger of warning, "you do that, and people always want you to cook. You'll be a victim of your own success."

Sam shook her head as she polished off her toast, and began sipping her coffee.

"I didn't say you were that good," she grinned.

* * *

A simple wedding pagoda had been erected in the yard, decorated in thin white fabrics, white roses, and green leaves. A red carpet led up to the structure, and chairs were put out for the guests to sit on each side of its crimson path. She and Pete were going to be joined in marriage inside that damned thing, and now when Sam looked at it she felt sick. She walked between the chairs mindlessly, kicking the grass in front of her. Her emotions were starting to stir deep inside her, and she feared them. Samantha Carter, alien ass kicker extraordinaire, was suddenly afraid of crying. The night before, when she and Jack had talked in his closet, she had cried, she had felt as if those tears would never end. So now that they had gone away, she wanted them to stay away. If she started crying again, she didn't know if she could stop.

Jack watched her from the porch, wanting to give her space but at the same time feeling the distinct urge to walk up to her, hug her tightly, and tell her that everything was going to be alright. He shuddered slightly, who knew Jack O'Neill was so full of clichés. Sam continued kicking the grass.

"Hey!" Jack exclaimed, walking down the stairs and towards her, "stop kicking my lawn! I worked hard on that."

His lopsided smirk gave away just how serious he was being. Sam almost smiled. He crossed the distance between them quickly and stood in front of her, blocking her path, and looking at her intently. Her eyes welled up under the scrutiny; something about him coming closer made her emotions come all the way to the surface finally. Standing among the empty chairs was so symbolic of what had happened the day before, and there he was, with two strong shoulders that she could cry on. It was too much.

"Sam," Jack said quietly but determinedly, "it's okay. You just went through hell, it's okay to be upset."

She heaved, and he pulled her close as her body convulsed in his arms.

"I just left him there," she sobbed in to his sweater, "I left him standing there and he looked so destroyed."

She pushed away from Jack gently, and wiped her tears on her denim jacket sleeves.

"But I just walked away," she choked, "I broke his heart."

Jack adjusted his sunglasses needlessly, looking for something to say.

"Sam…" was all he could get out, and he hoped she heard all the things that he wanted her to hear. Their wordless communication had evolved over the years, and he hoped it would make up for his currently rubbish comforting skills.

"I really messed up, Jack." Sam said quietly.

Jack didn't say anything, he knew contradicting her would do no good; it would only serve to make her feel patronized and angry. At the same time he didn't want to agree with her too readily and possibly be crowned the biggest jerk in all of Minnesota. So they stood in the grass, Sam's bare feet dirty, covered in mud which had gotten wet from an overnight summer rain. He noted that her toenails were perfectly done in deep purple, and he wondered if Sam had ever had a pedicure before in her life. He knew surprisingly little about her, even though he considered her one of his closest friends. The Air Force had been in the way for so many years, and you don't ask your subordinates about pedicures. Or maybe it was one of those things that men just don't notice, Sara had always said that men were hopeless at noticing things like new manicures and newly trimmed hair.

"Whatcha thinking, sir?"

He was pulled out of his thoughts by Sam.

"Pedicures," he said with his typical blunt honesty.

Sam snorted with laughter, and no matter how decent and upstanding Jack tried to be, he couldn't help but feel almost overwhelmingly happy about the fact that she was there with him, and not somewhere else, not with Pete.

Damnit. This could get complicated.

* * *

 _ **All constructive criticism is welcome, mean comments are not welcome. I will tell Santa on you if you're not nice to me. Praise is also welcome, but that's just because I'm human and I enjoy stuff like that. Spread the love, homies.**_


	3. Proposition

**Here's the third chapter, my Stargate loving friends! (And, check it out, Kimmie, Jack grumbles in this one! :D)  
-this chapter has been updated because I copy/pasted the wrong damned version, it doesn't change the plot, but it's better. IMO-**

"Throw it! Just throw it all away. I don't want any of this." 

Sam stood by the pile of wedding gifts in Jack's living room, her arms gesticulating angrily. Jack took a deep breath, preparing to jump in to a proverbial ocean of potential arguments. 

"Carter," he began, "you might like something here, or maybe find something for Cassie or someone." 

Sam gave him a look that would have possibly killed a weaker man. 

"I. Don't. Want. It. Now throw it out. All of it!" Her voice was forceful and carried powerfully around the room. 

She turned on her heel, marching out of the room and leaving Jack with a mountain of wedding gifts. Even after several years of not sharing a chain of command, Sam never ordered Jack around. The specific form of respect that soldiers learn for so long was still left in her subconscious mind. So she often playfully told him what to do, as friends tend to do, but she didn't order him around. Now, when she pretty much barked orders at him, he realized even more than before how much unresolved emotion was pent up inside her. 

Left alone in the living room, he looked at the huge pile of presents and grumbled to himself. 

An "oh for crying out loud…" escaped him. 

He remembered after his divorce from Sara, how he had thrown out almost everything that reminded him of her. Of course the situation was different; other things had torn them apart than had now separated Sam and Pete. But he guessed the feelings were akin to each other, the feeling that you needed to erase someone or something completely from your life. He started gathering the presents in large garbage bags, but just as he was about to throw them away, he decided to keep them in his basement. Maybe one day Sam would want to look through them. 

After coming up from the basement, he walked toward the guestroom, knocking gently on the door. 

"You can come in, sir." Sam's voice was broken from recent tears. Jack walked in, sitting down beside her on the bed. He had no idea what to say, but something told him to not leave her alone for too long, so there he was. He put his arm around her, and she put her head on his shoulder. 

"I have to go home," she said, "I can't be around all these things. All these reminders." 

She looked up at Jack with trepidation, realizing that she'd be leaving him alone to fix everything. The pagoda, the chairs, the food, it was a lot to do. On the other hand, Teal'c and Daniel would help without question, actually, they'd probably force Jack to let them help, and she would have left them anyway for the honeymoon. Her stomach dropped. The honeymoon. She shrugged the thought away, and swallowed the tears that threatened to spill over. Leaving the cabin to go home would just be switching current reminders for new ones, but then at least she would be moving. She was so restless, so keen to get away from the pain of having abandoned Pete, that she'd do just about anything. Go just about anywhere.

"I need to get away." She said silently, eyes fixed on the floor. 

Jack suddenly had an idea. One of those quick ideas out of nowhere that always got him in to trouble with his superiors. 

"Let's take a road trip." 

Sam looked more surprised than he had ever seen her. He cleared his throat, trying to muster up some of his soldier posture and gaze. He was Air Force for God's sake. How hard could it be to toughen up? Hard as all hell, apparently. _Fake it til you make it, Jack.  
_

"When me and Dad needed a break from stuff," he began, "we'd go on a road trip. It… helped." He floundered.

This was possibly the worst idea he had ever verbalized, he cringed inwardly. Sam's eyes were wide open, and he couldn't decide what they meant. Silently he berated himself for being so impulsive in a situation that required careful thought. Sam pushed away from him, and he felt as if he had just messed up something really important. But Sam relaxed, met his eyes, and shrugged. 

"Why not?" she said, "let's do it."


	4. Motion

_**As you guys can tell, my updates will be erratic. But I'm always thinking of you!**_

"Hey T, what's up?" 

Jack was loading his truck with travel necessities; phone squeezed between his ear and his shoulder, and winced as both his knees hurt at the same time. He stopped for a moment and stretched a little. 

"Greetings, O'Neill," Teal'c responded in his familiar deep voice, "I am with DanielJackson, we are frequenting a fast food establishment. The food is ample, and I must say I enjoy the jumbo sized beverages." 

Jack smiled slightly at his friend; poor guy would never blend in on Earth if he kept talking like that. On the other end of the phone Jack heard Daniel yell. 

"Teal'c is eating for like five people!" 

_So no news there then_ , Jack thought to himself. 

"Great, look, I was wondering if you guys could fix all the wedding stuff at the cabin, now that..." he hesitated what words to use, "now that we don't need it anymore. Me and Carter are going on a road trip." 

Silence fell for a short moment as Teal'c conferred with Daniel. 

"Indeed we can, O'Neill." Teal'c answered after a while. 

Jack heaved a sports bag full of clothes off the ground and in to the truck. 

"Do you have keys to the cabin?" 

"Indeed," Teal'c intoned, "I can gain access to your dwelling." 

"That's both great and slightly disconcerting," Jack joked, but didn't wait for his friend's no doubt confused reaction, "anyway, gotta go. Thanks a lot." 

* * *

After suggesting the road trip the day before, both Sam and Jack agreed to not leave immediately. They had hung around the house watching movies for the rest of the day, and Sam had fallen asleep on the couch right in the middle of Star Wars.  
The morning had been spent with Sam vegetating on the couch, as Jack packed the truck full of necessities. Sam's honeymoon clothes, that she had stored in Jack's room since she and Pete were going to Bermuda the day after the ceremony, were actually not completely impractical. The Minnesota summer had been unusually warm, so Sam declared that she'd just bring the honeymoon bag on the road. She could buy a cardigan or a pair of pants if needed. 

"Are we packed?" Sam's voice pierced Jack's thoughts, and he turned around. Sam was standing on the porch in white sneakers and a purple dress. 

"Yeah," he yelled back, "you ready to go?" 

Sam didn't answer; she just started walking towards him determinedly, a small purse dangling in her hand. 

"You might wanna lock the place," she said just as she was next to him, before opening the car door and sitting down in the front seat. Jack snorted, threw a glance at the porch doors which were closed, and walked around the car to the driver's seat. He opened the door and got in, groaning in spite of himself as his joints protested. After starting the car, he answered Sam. 

"I don't lock doors," he said, "you know this about me." 

Sam smiled, remembering the hair dresser that once gained access to Jack's mind who had told him that Jack didn't need alarms or a dog. He needed to lock the doors. 

"Actually, the front door locks when it closes, I changed the system." 

"What about the porch doors?" 

He shrugged. 

"They self lock when not used for 24 hours." 

"Who installed that?" Sam asked, sounding much more shocked than she had intended. 

"Don't sound so surprised, Carter." Jack said. "There are other nerds in this world than the ones in Cheyenne Mountain. Some dude fixed it. He was a pleasant enough guy, not the best personal hygiene…" 

Sam chuckled, and they fell in to silence. A small two lane road was opening up in front of them, surrounded still by trees and green hills. They were pretty lonely on this road; it hadn't opened up to the larger roads and freeways yet. Sam rolled down the window slightly, enjoying the breeze and the feeling of being on the move. 

She couldn't quite believe what was happening, being on a road trip with Jack, just the two of them, would never have occurred to her only a few days earlier. Not because they weren't good friends, because they were, but because things were so complicated. Pete would hardly have been okay with Sam being on her own with Jack like that, and even without Pete in the picture, road trips always involved Teal'c and Daniel. 

It was odd how years of professional boundaries never quite died. No matter how much Jack was her friend, he was always her former CO, their ranks were like ghosts that haunted their friendship. The last few years they had slowly started whittling away their military identities to become friends as civilians, but the process was slow. They still regressed to military forms of address, and were still awkward when talking about things that would have been out of bounds back when they shared the same chain of command. 

She looked out on the road ahead and drew a deep breath. 

"What's up, Carter?" 

She looked at Jack, who was eyeing her inquisitively. 

"You're so quiet," he continued, as way of justifying the question. 

Sam shrugged. 

"I'm just enjoying the view, it's beautiful." She answered and pointed out the window. 

"It is," Jack responded, "you still wanna do this?" 

Sam looked at him in surprise, her stomach lurched. Was he backing out? 

"Yeah, of course I do. Don't you?" 

Jack looked at her with an unreadable face. 

"Yes. I do. I'm just checking. Before I drive us to God knows where, I wanna know you're still okay with it." 

Sam chortled. 

"I'm okay with it." 

"Alright, colonel, here we go." 

* * *

_**Not a nailbiter of a chapter, but they can't all be heartstoppers and tearjerkers. Hope you enjoyed! And remember, criticism can be a friendly sport =)**_


	5. Formulation

_**I'm sorry my updates are so sporadic, my SG1 loving friends. But if you guys knew my life (and me) this would be no surprise to you.  
Anyhoo, here's a new chapter. Enjoy :D Also, be nice when reviewing, because if you're mean Santa won't love you anymore. And, for the record, being a douchebag is just not a good way to go in life.**_

* * *

"Put your wallet away, Carter. I'm paying." 

Sam looked up at Jack and frowned, but put her wallet back in her purse. Jack grinned rather smugly before turning his eyes up to the animated menus above the counter. Ordering a large burger and Coke for himself, he gestured for Sam to order for herself. 

"A chicken sandwich please," she said, "and the biggest Diet Coke you have." 

Jack rolled his eyes at Sam's love of Diet Coke, the young man behind the counter smiled. 

"Would you like that served in a bucket, ma'am?" He quipped. 

Sam's eyes widened and she burst in to laughter. 

"I like you," she responded, "but no, just a large cup please." 

As Jack swiped his card to pay for their meal, Sam stayed by his side examining the nutritional label of a small container of dip sauce. The card was approved and Jack turned to her, sighing loudly. 

"Sheesh, Carter! Stop reading lists of chemicals!" He exclaimed in exasperation. "You're off duty, no need to nerd us all to death. Now, let's sit down, this place serves you at the table." 

Sam looked at him in mock horror. 

"I will have the general know that chemicals are very important." She said with all the command presence of a seasoned soldier. 

Jack pushed her in the direction of the dining area. 

"Yeah, yeah," he said lightly, "whatever you say, colonel." 

* * *

"So, where do you wanna go?" 

Jack took a french fry from his tray and looked at Sam curiously. The road trip had been his idea, but he had already decided to leave most things up to Carter; first of all because he trusted her with anything, but also because the idea for this road trip might have come _from_ him, but it wasn't _for_ him. It was for her.

Sam took a long sip of her Diet Coke and shrugged. 

"I don't really mind much. I just want to get away from all the…" she tried to formulate a nuanced response but failed, "life." She ended awkwardly. 

Jack smiled at her. 

"We can do that," he answered happily, "we just have to find places to sleep along the way." 

Once again Sam shrugged. 

"To heck with it," she said with an apathy that wasn't usually present in her voice, "I'll sleep in the car if we have to." 

Jack's eyebrow climbed. 

"Oh for cryin' out loud, general," she said, smiling with Jack at the borrowed phrase, "we're Air Force. We've slept in worse than cars." 

She was completely right. Sleeping in a car was like a dream compared to all the hard floors with no pillows or blankets they had slept on. The Goa'ulds didn't care about providing comfortable sleeping quarters, and they were not gracious hosts. Sleeping in sleeping bags in rough terrain during storms wasn't very comfortable, either. And to top it all off, the food was lousy. 

"So we're just winging it?" Jack asked in slight disbelief. He would have thought for sure that Sam would plan the whole thing out before he even had a say in what was going to happen. Sam chuckled at his surprised expression. 

"I'm up for it." She responded, and took another sip of her soda. 

"That is" she continued, with a challenge written on her features "unless a certain general is too chicken to improvise." 

Jack actually laughed out loud. 

"Ha!" He cried out, "Generals have no fears!" 

Sam giggled and kicked Jack's leg playfully under the table. 

"Just really bad knees." Jack winced. 

"Let's just get in the car and see what happens." Sam's tone was light, and Jack couldn't help but relish her spontaneous joy. He had never told her how much that happiness meant to him, how many times her happiness had gotten him through profound misery. He shook his thoughts, as he had for so many years, there was never a time or a place for talk like that, so he had learned to file it in the back of his mind, avoiding even looking at it. 

Sam started chewing up the last piece of her sandwich as Jack picked at the last of his fries mindlessly. 

"Okay, we'll try that plan." He said, adding, "Which technically, by the way, is actually no plan at all." 

Sam smiled widely. 

"But if we get lost," Jack intoned severely, "or if I die, it's on you, colonel." 

"Meh," she responded, "I can live with that." 

And so, the adventure could begin.

* * *

 _ **Like? I'm starting to think this could turn in to something.** _


	6. Question

**-this chapter has been edited because I messed up-**

* * *

Episode: Divide and Conquer

Jack: _I didn't leave... because I'd have rather died myself than lose Sam.  
_ Freya: _Why?  
_ Jack: _Because_ ** _I care about her. A lot more than I'm supposed to._**

 _-  
_ Jack: _Carter…  
_ Sam: **_Sir,_** ** _none of this has to leave this room_** _._  
Jack: **_We're okay with that?  
_** Sam: **_Yes, sir._**

* * *

Jack was a smooth driver, maneuvering the car fluidly between lanes. It was almost sedating. Sam rested her head against the window, enjoying watching the road disappearing underneath them as they moved toward somewhere that they didn't know where it was. She yawned.

"Hey, stay awake, soldier," Jack ordered lightly. "I'm not driving around with a snorer as my only company."

"I was just yawning," she answered pointedly, "I'm still awake."

Jack snorted.

"I know the beginnings of a nap when I see it, you were about to doze off. Sit up and keep your eyes open."

Sam sighed dramatically and straightened in her seat, sitting straight as only a military person can. Looking at Jack intently, she continued her awkward position, with her back not even touching the back rest, until he looked back at her.

"Sam," he said warmly at seeing her dramatic, defiant posture, "I can never decide whether you're hopeless or amazing."

She didn't want to look it, but Sam was taken aback at Jack's use of the word of "amazing." It wasn't often Jack would say things like that to her, or to anyone as far as she knew, so when he did her insides would warm up for a moment. Jack, if he was aware of the effect the words had on her, didn't show it. He wasn't one for dramatic displays of affection. Sometimes she wished he was.

They were on a big road now, four lanes with lots of cars zipping by in both directions, and large advertisements, nature areas, and the occasional rest stop passing by her window.

"So," Jack said, clearing his throat, "are we at any point going to some kind of a destination here, or am I gonna have to sleep in a car for the foreseeable future?"

Sam scrunched her nose slightly; she wasn't completely sure what she wanted. That's why the idea of a goal-less road trip had been so appealing, to just get away, and to not care about details and responsibilities. At the same time, she realized there was practicality to having a bed to sleep in every so often. She shrugged, and when she spoke her voice wasn't as light as it had been.

"I don't care," she said, "if you find a motel or something and you want to spend the night there, I'll do that. If we end up sleeping in the car, that's fine, too. I just…" the last few words died somewhere between her thoughts and her tongue.

Jack glanced at her, and motioned with his hand for her to continue.

"Come on, Carter," he said, "since when do you hold back?"

"I just don't want to feel tied down. All the wedding planning and work and everything…"

She paused almost unnoticeably before continuing, now in an even more subdued tone that Jack couldn't quite interpret.

"..and planning that damned honeymoon. I just want to play hooky for a while, I guess."

He smiled at her choice of words, but Sam's face fell, just as her voice had lowered only seconds before.

"Sir." She murmured.

Jack looked at her in surprise at the severe tone and formality.

"What's wrong, Carter?"

He immediately regretted his use of her last name, because he didn't want that gap between them anymore. The titles were one thing in casual conversation because when it was casual it was also largely meaningless; it was habit. But when things were serious, he wanted to make sure they were always friends more than they were former colleagues. He never wanted rank to matter in any way between them again.

The gas meter was showing alarmingly low levels, and so he made a turn to get off the busy highway; a gas station immediately becoming visible not many stones' throws away. He started surveying the area for a parking space as he first wanted to go in and get a cup of coffee. They said caffeine addiction wasn't contagious, but he could swear he drank more coffee now than he ever did before he met Daniel.

Sam took a deep breath.

"It's so stupid. I'm sorry." She twisted her fingers, and looked out the window. Jack turned in to park by the station, and slowed the car to get it in to a narrow parking spot.

"Oh for crying out loud, Sam!" he exclaimed as he eased the truck in to a cramped space. "You know you can tell me anything."

She looked at him, one eyebrow arching slightly, wanting to confirm that she _could_ in fact say _anything_. Jack nodded. Wordless communication was a wonderful perk the two shared after so many years of duty and friendship.

"It's a question," Sam said, her fingers still twisting nervously. Jack waited as he pressed the breaks a little harder, feeling a palpable tension and thickness in the air between them.

"I know I said I was okay with it. I..", she struggled with her words, "I'm not okay with it anymore."

The longest second of her life followed, as her heart, seemingly thumping outside her chest, braced itself for the unknown.

"Can we take it out of the room now?"

And just then, just as the car stopped completely, Jack's world stopped as well.


End file.
